As we all know it is important to understand the silent signals after such an ongoing trauma
as October 7 and the rise in national and global fear.
With the intensifying waves of hatred, violence, and uncertainty in Israel and around the
world against Jews, many people have found themselves caught between two conflicting
realities: one part of them continues to function, while another feels numb, panicked, shut
down, or disconnected. If you’ve experienced this, you’re not alone. And you’re not broken.
In the aftermath of a traumatic event, many of us try to “get back to normal.” We return to
work, take care of others, stay busy, or even manage to smile again. From the outside, it
may seem as though we’ve made it through. But our bodies often tell a different story.
Trauma doesn’t disappear just because time passes. As Dutch psychiatrist Bessel van der
Kolk wrote in The Body Keeps the Score, trauma is not just something we remember — it’s
something we carry. It lodges itself deep in the body, beyond words, beyond conscious
awareness. It distorts how we breathe, sleep, relate, and even how we feel our own skin.
When a traumatic experience is too overwhelming to process — especially when it involves
violence, loss, terror; or the collapse of our family, personal and intimate structures of
everything we believed in (our safety and confidence)— the psyche does what it must: it
fragments. We may go numb. We may dissociate. We may become highly reactive,
hypervigilant, or emotionally frozen. All of these are survival strategies. They are not signs of
weakness. They are signs of how hard the body is working to protect us from something it
cannot yet understand and incorporate.
Eventually, the body starts to signal that the trauma remains unresolved anf ofthe speaks
when the soul can ́t.
Even when we think we’re coping well, unresolved trauma often shows up in physical and
emotional symptoms that don’t seem to “make sense”:
● Trouble sleeping, or waking up with dread or panic
● Chronic fatigue or body tension that no amount of rest relieves
● A constant sense of threat, even in safe environments
● Difficulty concentrating, or feeling like your mind “goes blank”
● Emotional numbness, or unexpected outbursts of anger or grief
● Digestive issues, chest tightness, or breath that feels stuck
● Feeling disconnected from your own body or surroundings
● Sometimes, people report that they “don’t feel real” or that life feels like a fog.
Others describe feeling emotionally flat, unable to cry or connect, even though they know
something is wrong.
These are not psychological flaws. They are the body’s language. They are its way of asking
for help — not to be rushed back to “normal,” but to be held, listened to, and slowly
re-integrated.
Why talk therapy isn’t always enough
Talk therapy can be a powerful tool but not alwyas is enough. As trauma experts like van der
Kolk have shown, trauma is not stored in the rational, verbal parts of the brain. It lives in the
survival brain and in the nervous system — in the body itself.
This is why people often say, “I’ve talked about it so many times, but it still feels stuck.” Or “I
know I’m safe now, but my body doesn’t feel that way.” The nervous system doesn’t respond
to logic. It responds to felt safety.
And healing must begin there, in my opinion — in the body, in the breath, in the slow, gentle
reconnection with parts of ourselves that have been frozen, silenced, or shut down for our
own protection.
Swiss psychologist Carl Jung believed that healing requires us to bring into awareness what
has been hidden — not to get rid of it, but to integrate it. To make space for the unseen.
From this perspective, trauma splits off parts of the Self. These parts may hold unbearable
fear, pain, or rage. But they also hold vitality, intuition, and truth. Healing doesn’t mean
forgetting what happened. It means creating enough inner safety and strength to face what’s
inside, without being overwhelmed by it.
This is not something we do all at once. It is slow. It is sacred. And it begins with listening —
not just to the mind, but to the body.
Many people affected by October 7 and its ripple effects are suffering in silence. They may
feel ashamed that they’re not “over it.” They may worry that they’re too sensitive, or that
others have it worse.
But trauma is not a competition. And healing isn’t linear. What matters is that the actual pain
is real. That the body remembers. And that there is a way forward — even if the world still
feels unsafe.
For those experiencing trauma from direct exposure to violence, from witnessing the
suffering of others, or from the ongoing sense of fear and isolation, is important to know this:
The body does not betray you. It speaks for you, when words cannot. It holds the truth, even
when the mind wants to forget. And it holds the key to healing — slowly, gently, one breath at
a time.
Here are a few gentle practices to begin listening to the body:
Start with the breath. Not forced deep breathing — just noticing where your breath is.
Is it shallow? Held? Fast? Let it be, and meet it with kindness.
Name the feeling. Try to discriminate. Say it softly: “This is fear.” “This is grief.” Naming
helps create distance and safety.
Place a hand on your heart or belly. Feel the warmth. You are here. You are alive. That
matters.
Seek spaces of safety. This could be a trusted person, a quiet room, nature, or a community
where you can be seen without judgment.
Let your body move. Walk, stretch, sway — even small movements help signal safety to the
nervous system.
Healing from trauma is not about going back to who you were before. It’s about becoming
more whole — bringing compassion and softness even to the wounded physical parts, and
remembering that your body has a role, even in its pain, and has been fighting for you all
along.
Ruth Percowicz
Specialist in Jungian Psychology and Kabbalistic Studies
